You Can Find me in the Club

For a certain cross section of the population, there is clearly an appeal to the concept of going out ‘clubbing’.  I, for one, am not really one of them.  I have been to a few clubs, and while in a band played at several places with ‘Club’ in the name, which I guess is another thing.  What really makes a place a club?  Well, I probably don’t have time to delve into that, but it is a good question.  This particular story though is about the one time I experienced a club, not in the way that I think most people do, but in a way that before this I had simply thought was fantasy.

                Many years ago, during one of several visits I have made to Las Vegas, I was grouped up with several other managers that worked for the same company that I did.  I think it was the second evening that we were there, and rather than the usual company mixer, we had a night that was pretty open for us to get to see the city.  And what better way to ‘See’ Las Vegas, than from the inside of a club!  Or at least that seemed to be the prevailing desire of the majority of the group.  My dad grew up not far from Vegas, and I had seen most of the bright lights already.  I decided to tag along if for no other reason than it would keep me from spending any money at the slots. 

                We started off at New York New York (the casino with the statue of liberty) and headed to the nearby MGM Grand.  It had a couple of clubs open, but after dropping ten bucks a head to get to said clubs, the group decided these places were not jumping adequately.  If you have been to Las Vegas, then you know you are never more than a thirty-minute walk to the next destination, and so we set out to find, what I guess was intended to be a more active club.  And find one we did!  I don’t remember which casino the place was actually located at; it was one of the less name brand places.  Not Caesar’s Palace, more like Q or some such.  Anyway, this place had a long line snaking out from its double purple doors, with two large bouncers regulating who could go in and when.

                So, we had clearly found what at this point was the hottest spot in town.  However, sizing up the line, it seemed we would probably be standing outside for the majority of the night, assuming that was we could even get in.  I for sure wasn’t really that interested in just standing around in Vegas for an entire evening, especially when our 2 remaining nights were pretty much already mapped out by the conference.  It was at this point that the oldest member of our group (who I can’t imagine was anymore than 30) spoke up and said “Hey, we can just go up and slip the bouncers a fifty and they will let us in.” 

                I am almost positive I audibly laughed at this idea.  And while I might have been the only one that did so, I could tell the others thought this idea funny as well.  With this many people waiting to get in, I very much doubted that they were going to let in five rando guys just because we offered them a fifty. 

I should mention here that I felt like I was fairly savvy when it came to getting around in Vegas.  This was still the era in which you could get a fair number of freebies if you just played your cards right (mind the pun), buffet’s were still wicked cheap (even at some of the more fancy Casinos), and if you didn’t look any of the street performers or coupon pushers straight in the eye, they would usually leave you alone.  Experience and familiarity had granted me this attitude.  But I was visiting a world which I knew little about (see the first paragraph of this story for a refresher), and so it was that my inexperience was showing as I wrote off this idea as totally improbable.

Our wise elder however was adamant that we could do it, and eventually I think the fifty became a hundred.  We pushed through a number of tightly packed groups and made our way to the velvet ropes that seemingly created an impassible barrier for the masses.  The closest bouncer gave our fearless leader a look, who was holding the hundred close to his chest. The guy gave our group a glance, snuck a peek back at the bill, to I assume confirm it’s tender, and then nodded.  Out went the hand with the cupped bill, up went the velvet rope, and in went five of what had to be the least well-dressed guys in the club that night.  But in we did go.  I was surprised, shocked even a bit I’ll admit.  The club was pretty crowded, but not as much as I would have thought based on the line outside.  Despite it not really being my bag, it was actually a really enjoyable night.  Loud music, people acting the fool, a really surprising selection of soda’s (not just Coke and Diet Coke).

They don’t precisely deserve their own stories, but there was a rather eclectic cast of characters to be found that night.  From a foreign woman who apparently came from a society that considered deodorant optional, to a guy from Australia that had come to Vegas to get married, only to be abandoned by his fiancé the very first night in Sin City.  And what of all those people out in the line… Why didn’t they try the same tactic that we had, seeing as from what I could discern, that was the whole reason for the velvet ropes in the first place, to make those bouncers (and probably the club) money.  I’m sure we paid a cover once we were in there (though this is fuzzy, as I was still surprised by the whole getting in thing), so it probably would have been cheaper for me to stay back and just play nickel and penny slots in the end.

I mentioned that to me this whole experience kind of stands out as fantasy.  And even though I lived it that night, later experiences would cement my impression that this particular night was more of an outlier, as opposed to the norm.  On two other occasions since that night I have witnessed people try the whole ‘Here’s some money, will you let us in’ thing.  On both of those occasions, it did not work, and in fact failed in pretty spectacular fashion.  Looking back, that may have been part of the reason fewer people were trying to get in the club that night.  Maybe it hadn’t worked for them before.  I also found that in later ‘club’ experiences, the fun to be had was mostly in who you were there with.  Most places only offer watered down drinks if you aren’t into alcohol, not to mention the music can be pretty hit or miss.  As I stated before, I don’t dance, though I do enjoy dancing slow with my wife, but that’s not usually the kind of dances you get in a club setting.  I still enjoy seeing bands live, but that can be just as enjoyable out in a park. 

In the end, if going to a club is your thing, then awesome!  Go and enjoy that club scene!  As for me, I’ll take my chances with the slots.